Autumn Leaves
by WrittenSins
Summary: After seven long years, Draco returns to Britain to finally make his dream a reality, only to find the past can't be so easily outrun. And that a lot can change in seven years. Draco/Harry.


**Author's notes:** I sincerely hope you guys love this fic as much as I love writing it. The title is inspired by an Ed Sheeran song of the same title. Throughout the course of planning this fic, I came up with several different titles, but kept coming back to this one.

* * *

 **September 1** **st** **, 2010**

Autumn was coming rapidly.

Bright splashes of red and gold dotted the small muggle park Draco sat at and the air was as crisp and cool as apple cider. There was nothing about the day to suggest it was only the first of September and yet, Draco felt it, deep within his bones. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath, relishing the icy spread of cold, damp autumn throughout his chest. He released it noisily. There was no escaping it. Whether he was nineteen and fresh out of Hogwarts or thirty, the first of September never failed to make him feel incredibly, inexplicably _old_.

He sighed. Without a word, Pansy leaned over and tapped her wand against his coffee. It roared to life with a vengeance. Draco swore and fumbled with the foam cup, frowning crossly at Pansy. She feigned ignorance, examining her black nails, a small smirk playing at her lips. Draco forgave her instantly as his frozen fingers began to thaw. He wrapped them around the warmth with a soft sigh and sunk his teeth into the rim contentedly. He shifted on the picnic table and bit down a groan as icy prickles shot up his backside. Wincing, he rubbed his nose.

"Twelve years," Pansy muttered beside him darkly. "Twelve years since we've boarded that bloody train. I still can't believe it sometimes..."

A bright red leaf detached itself from a nearby tree and Draco watched as the wind swept it away. It twirled lazily through the air, dancing along the currents. It reached the park and a girl with spiky brown hair made a valiant effort to catch it. The leaf escape her grasp and the game was on. A dozen kids leapt and jumped for it, but the leaf continued on, passed the slide and the monkey bars, passed the word-down, beaten plastic turtle sandbox, and towards the swings, where a young boy with big grey eyes and a penchant for fish sat alone.

"Are you all settled in?" Pansy asked.

"Mm, for the most part," Draco answered absently. The boy swung his feet idly and chewed his bottom lip. Draco frowned. Awful habit.

"You're running out of rim," Pansy said idly.

Draco released the foam caught between his teeth.

"There wasn't much to do, since it was already furnished. Mostly just getting Scorpius settled in. Absolute nightmare that."

Pansy snorted softly.

"I imagine. I swear, that kid has so many toys he's practically swimming in them. Speaking of swimming, what did he think of his new room?"

"Le's see," Draco recalled, toying with the rim of his coffee cup once again. "He ran around shrieking for about five minutes, then he jumped up and down for an additional two, then hugged me, then proceeded to name every single creature on his wall. All in all, I think it went rather well."

He had put a ridiculous amount of effort into painting the room of a five year old who, at the end of the day, would've been happy with a crudely drawn shark on his wall, but it had been completely worth it. The look on Scorpius' face when he had saw it — Draco would paint a hundred more rooms for that face. Besides, it wasn't very often he put his poor, neglected artistic talents to use. He hadn't drawn regularly since —

His stomach churned unpleasantly and he squinted up at the sky. The sun was much lower than he remembered.

"Did you manage to transport all the aquariums alright?"

"I found a transportation spell similar to a portkey that transported them right to the house."

"An international transportation spell? Is that legal?"

"Only if you're not caught."

Draco could hear the smile in her voice. "Is that good for the fish?"

He pointedly ignored Pansy's eye-roll. There was no way he was admitting to her — or anybody, for that matter — just how worked up he had gotten over those _stupid_ creatures that, for some strange reason beyond him, meant everything to his son and would most likely break his heart if anything happened to them. He had _wanted_ to just shrink and floo them, but the very first book he had read had warned him floo travel was too risky for underwater creatures, as was apparition, portkeys, and flying at any speed over 10mph on a broom. What the book had neglected to tell him was what _was_ a safe form of transportation. It had taken him several hours spent pouring through every book about underwater animals and transportation he could find, both muggle and wizarding alike, and he had almost been about to resign himself to flying on one of those horrifying metal muggle contraptions when he had stumbled, _thankfully_ , upon a transportation spell with all the results of a portkey, but without the harsh tugging and spinning and the painful dismount. No matter that it was technically by all laws illegal.

He still wasn't exactly sure how any of the pet shops he had gotten the damn things from had actually gotten them to his house without killing them and if the teenage girl at the magical menagerie in France had known, she hadn't been inclined to tell him. When he had asked, she had just popped her gum and responded, _"Je m'en fous."_

"So, how is — what are you calling it again — the Invincible Hospital?"

"Invictus," Draco corrected. He rubbed absently at the crook of his left arm and shot her a wry look. "As you very well know." He looked out over the park and sighed. "And slow. Extremely, painfully slow. But it's happening."

He couldn't keep the amazement and wonder out of his voice if he tried. A part of him still couldn't believe it, that it was actually, finally happening. The dream he had, had since he was eighteen and had watched his father waste away and die in that room at the manor. Everything he had worked for.

"I'm really proud of you, you know," Pansy said, knocking her shoulder gently against his. "And if you ever tell anyone I said something so horrifyingly _Hufflepuff_ , I'll ruin you."

Draco squinted up at the sky again and rubbed his nose. He smiled, just a little.

"Well, I've officially lost all feeling in my arse," Pansy announced, standing up. "I think that's enough park time for me. Padma should have dinner ready soon. You're coming over for dinner, right?"

"If Padma's cooking, definitely," Draco said, standing up himself.

Padma Patil was easily one of the best cooks he knew, which was a very good thing considering Pansy was one of the worst cooks he knew. She couldn't even bake a proper cake. He still remembered the lopsided, pink frosting covered monstrosity she had presented to him for Valentines day in their fourth year. It had tasted like too much sugar and false pretenses.

Draco cupped his hands to his mouth and called out, "Time to go, Scor!"

He heard Scorpius' whine of protest from across the park and rolled his eyes. How a kid could spend hours on the same playground and not get bored was beyond him. But, then again, he had been perfectly content to sit on a picnic table and marvel over the changing leaves, so perhaps he wasn't one to talk. He sighed. Merlin, he really _was_ getting old.

Scorpius jogged over, pink-faced and puffs of evanescent clouds fogging the air. The second he was within reach, Draco grabbed his scarf and began retying it. He tugged it firmly up until it covered Scorpius' small, pointed nose and, ignoring his muffled protests, wrapped it securely in place. Satisfied, he stepped back to examine his work. The scarf was absolutely ridiculous, a lopsided mass of blue, shark-covered fabric that had been hand-knitted by Pansy, but Scorpius adored it — _it had sharks after all_.

"Papa," Scorpius whined, voice muffled by the scarf. "I can't _breathe._ "

"And yet, you can still manage to talk," Draco observed. "Somehow, you always manage that."

Scorpius pulled down his scarf and stuck out his tongue. And perhaps Draco really shouldn't have smiled at that, but he snorted loudly and, seeing the scarf for the losing battle it was, simply held out his hand. Scorpius' gloved hand slid into it immediately, small and warm against Draco's own. Scorpius held his other hand out to Pansy, wiggling shark-knitted fingers at her, and Draco saw the exact moment Pansy melted inside.

"So, what's your wife cooking tonight?" Draco asked as they began the walk to Pansy's and Padma's flat. _Wife_. He loved using that word. Even more so, he loved reminding Pansy of the phase in her life where she had positively, absolutely sworn on Salazar's bones that she was never ever in a hundred years falling prey to the bullshit farce that was marriage. Now, it was hard to tell which of them loved the word more.

Pansy's eyes lit up like fireworks and she immediately jumped into an enthusiastic description of what Padma had planned for dinner. Draco smiled and listened with amusement and ignored the way it made him ache inside. With Pansy going on animatedly and Scorpius' hand clutched in his, it was easy not to think about the reason why he had moved to France all those years ago. Seven years ago, to be precise. Seven very, very long years.

• • •

Draco sighed contentedly and reclined back in his chair, so full he felt he might burst. As always, Padma's meal had been beyond delicious and as always, he had ate far too much. He had always had a weak spot for food. He tuned out Pansy and Padma's conversation about Padma's upcoming fashion show and lazed back in his chair, warm and sleepy and pleasantly buzzed from the glass of red wine he had drank with dinner. When his eyelids began to droop threateningly, he forced himself to look idly around the flat to keep himself awake.

While he had never been a fan of living in the center of a busy, bustling city like London, he had to admit Pansy and Padma's flat was gorgeous. Chic and expensive, it was huge and luxurious and on the top floor with a breathtaking view of London several stories below. Sleek black leather and plush white carpets made up the furnishing, and there were several different types of fancy vases and odd, expensive things he didn't even knew if they had names for, but was sure his mother would approve of. Tributes to Padma's heritage had been woven seamlessly into the décor and could be seen all over in the form of priceless paintings and artifacts and brightly colored, intricate tapestries.

It was exactly the kind of place that made him nervous to unleash a five year old in, even one as admittedly calm as Scorpius, but any time he tried to voice his worries Pansy and Padma dismissed them immediately ( _"Honestly Draco,"_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Pansy drawled exasperatedly in his head, _"It's like you haven't grown up with magic all your life. Ever heard of 'reparo'?"_ ).

Scorpius had disappeared the second he had scarfed down dessert and Draco searched for him now, leaning further back in his chair. It didn't take long to find him. He was standing in front of the small fish bowl in the living room he had somehow managed to convince Pansy and Padma into getting — dimples, it was _always_ the dimples. He appeared to be talking to the fish, lips moving too softly for Draco to hear. Suddenly, he remembered Scorpius on the swings, alone and apart from the other kids. He turned away, only to find Padma and Pansy looking at him with small, sympathetic smiles. He swallowed.

"I talked with some of my friends. The school's still accepting applicants," Padma said gently, and whatever traces of happening that had been inside Draco turned cold instantly. He bit the inside of his cheek, but his expression remained calm, indifferent. _Friends_. He knew _exactly_ who Padma's friends were. "The school year starts in two weeks, on the fifteenth. If you want him to start then, you'll need to turn the papers in by the seventh."

Padma hesitated, bottom lip caught between her teeth, then added very quickly, "I know you said you were still thinking about it, but one of my friends — " Draco clenched his jaw. " — was down there anyways, so I asked her to grab me a copy of the paperwork. I'll go get it."

 _Her_ , Draco noted dully. Draco reached for his glass, only to remember it was empty. Without missing a beat, Pansy refilled it. She set the bottle down and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Stop looking so worried," She said. "It's primary school Draco, not Hogwarts. He's still going to come home everyday. Besides, you'll be busy enough renovating the manor. You could use the break."

Draco did the mature thing and suppressed the desire to groan and smack his head on the table. Instead, he calmly sipped his wine and pretended they both didn't know full well that he was going to fill out those papers and turn them in. Knowing he was going to do it didn't make it any easier. There was an anxious, whiny little voice at the back of his head, one he didn't even know he had, had until the first time he had held this tiny little thing in his arms and had been told it was his son. The voice was truly pitiful, an endless list of what ifs and buts ( _What if he doesn't like it? What if he gets picked on? What if he doesn't make any friends? You_ know _how he is..._ ) and they all bubbled down to one: _What if I'm not ready for him to grow up?_

Not even poetry was enough this time.

It wasn't as if he was used to having Scorpius around always — Scorpius had, had a babysitter in France while Draco had worked, a sweet French girl who had found Scorpius' immense love for all things that lived underwater endearing rather than strange. It was that he wasn't used to his little boy not being quite so little anymore.

And then there was the part that nobody talked about, the part Draco wouldn't even let himself _think_ about: who Scorpius would be going to school _with_.

If it wasn't the best school in Britain, it wouldn't be a problem.

Draco sighed and looked over at Scorpius, who now appeared to be trying to direct the fish into following his finger. Scorpius had never said as much, but Draco had begun to suspect the boy was lonely. He needed kids his own age to play with and talk to. Not fish.

Padma returned with a bright, lime green folder, which she placed gently in front of him. He opened it and saw it contained a neat stack of papers.

"I was curious so I read through it. Some of it is a bit ridiculous. They ask all kinds of questions about accidental magic. There's even a question in there asking if they've ever turned someone into a frog," Padma said, voice light, smile unsure, but hopeful.

"Thank you, Padma," Draco told her quietly, and she sagged with relief. He closed the folder and climbed to his feet. "It's getting late. Dinner was delicious, as always."

They said their goodbyes and Draco pulled Scorpius away from the fishes so he could his goodbyes as well, then he bundled him up in his coat and ridiculous scarf and the two of them stepped into the floo.

• • •

22 Autumn Lane was one of the many properties the Malfoys had owned for centuries and it was secretly Draco's favorite. His parents had wrote it off the second they had gotten the word that _Weasleys_ had moved into Tinworth, but those days were far behind Draco now. Not a grand, perhaps, as the villa he had lived in, in France or the Manor, or the several hundred acre properties that came with the Malfoy name, the Tinworth property remained impressive in its own right. It was fairly large and open, and it was right one the coast with nothing around for miles except lush green grass and beach and the ocean. The home itself was a charming old Victorian with white trimming and peeling light blue paint and plenty of large, open windows to admire the view — much more 'homey' Draco thought, than the cold, unforgivable marble and stone of the Malfoy Manor. Besides, he had other plans for the manor.

The living room of Autumn Lane was dim, the sky outside the windows dyed in fading twilight. Draco didn't bother to turn on the lights. Scorpius was already making his way towards the back door in the kitchen, a cheerful skip in his step. It had become a nightly routine of theirs to go for a walk on the beach before dark. It had been Draco's idea, a compromise since the weather was too cold for Scorpius to actually play in the ocean.

"Can I get my feet wet?" Scorpius asked as he bounded outside, already trying to take a shoe off while he walked and creating an odd little one-legged hop.

"Yes," Draco said, amused.

Scorpius managed to shuck one shoe and then the next. Tossing them blindly towards the back door, he took off for the beach. The beach was only about 50 yards from the house, where the backyard transitioned smoothly from lush green grass to sandy beach. Draco followed Scorpius at a more leisured pace and stood safely out of reach of the tide as they walked along the sand. Water swirled lazily over Scorpius' feet and while Draco winced, Scorpius shrieked and giggled joyously, wiggling his toes.

"Cold!" He gasped.

Draco smiled and breathed in the salty air. He slipped his hands into his pockets and his smile faded when his fingers rushed the shrunken down folder inside. He sighed and stared out at the purple dyed sky. He could just make out a glimmer of bright orange in the distance and knew they had only minutes before the horizon swallowed the sun and darkness soon followed.

"What do you think about going to school?"

"Hogwarts?" Scorpius asked, perking up at once.

Draco bit down a smile.

"No, not Hogwarts," He said, and Scorpius sagged with disappointment. "You won't go there until your older. I meant a different school, one for kids your age."

"Will I learn magic there?"

"You'll learn about magic," Draco said carefully. _And history and math and a whole load of boring crap_ , he added silently. He'd keep that part a delightful surprise. Then again, Scorpius was a bit of an oddball. Draco wouldn't put it passed him to actually _like_ history.

Scorpius perked back up. "Cool."

"So, what do you think? Think you'd like to go?"

"Will you be there?" Scorpius asked, scratching his nose and squinting up at him.

"No. I'll be working. It'll be like when Adalyn watched you, but instead of staying with her, you'll go to school and then I'll pick you up after work."

Scorpius frowned and kicked idly at the water as it licked over his feet.

"So, I'll have to go alone?"

He looked uncertain and worried, and Draco shoved down all his feelings about the matter and gave Scorpius the best smile he could muster.

"It'll be fun," He promised him. "You'll be able to make lots of friends your age and you'll learn a lot of cool things." Scorpius began to look more interested and Draco decided it was time for the closer, "And Aunt Padma told me there's a whole semester dedicated to ocean life where you learn all about the things that live in the ocean. There's even a project on it."

"I know all about the ocean," Scorpius said brightly. His eyes lit up suddenly and he bounced on the balls of his feet as he said eagerly, "Maybe they can come see my room!"

Draco laughed. "I don't think the professor will be on board with that, but you can always bring any friends you make over to see it. And I'll have to talk to your professor, but maybe you can bring in one of you pets to show the class."

Too late, Draco realized his mistake. How the hell was he supposed to get it there if he couldn't apparate or floo?

"I'll bring my jellyfish!" Scorpius cried happily.

Draco sighed. He'd just have to find a way.

"Like I said, I'll have to talk to the professor first," Draco reminded him before he could get too excited. He didn't need Scorpius trying to sneak a jellyfish tank in his school bag. "So, what do you think? Do you want to go? It starts in two weeks."

"You'll take me?" Scorpius asked.

"Every day," Draco promised.

"And pick me up?"

Draco's stomach flipped uneasily at the innocent question. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "Always."

Scorpius seemed to consider it for a moment, then he frowned suddenly.

"But what about the hospital? Don't you need me to help?"

"You are an excellent helper and your insight will be dearly missed," Draco said, biting down a smile. Scorpius' 'help' entailed alternating between asking the poor house-elves an endless list of questions and telling Draco which places would look good with a fish tank (all places). "But I think the house-elves and I will be able to handle it."

"Are you sure?" Scorpius asked doubtfully.

"Pretty sure."

"Don't forget about the fish tanks."

"I won't."

"And the walls."

"The children ward will be fully painted in an under the sea theme," Draco promised. He didn't tell Scorpius that while he did intend to paint the children's ward with an under the sea theme, it would be a much more 'cutesy' version of it than the more realistic wall murals that made up Scorpius' room — he didn't think Scorpius would like that too much. "And you'll still be able to help me after school and on the weekends. It's going to take a lot of work to get that place up and running."

The last part was more a mutter to himself, but Scorpius nodded seriously.

"Alright, I'll go," He said, still sounding a bit uncertain, but willing. "And I'll help you after school. Don't do all of it without me, okay?"

"Promise," Draco said.

Scorpius' small hand slid into his and Draco held it tight.

"Did you go there?" Scorpius asked after a moment.

"No, I had a tutor," Draco told him, shuddering as he recalled. "Terrible, nasty old woman who smelled like mothballs and feet. She used to chase Uncle Blaise around with a ruler. Pansy positively adored her."

Scorpius giggled.

Draco looked up at the sky and saw the sun was long gone, the sky rapidly darkening from purple to black. He blinked, then looked back at the manor, only to find it almost lost in the swelling darkness.

"It's late," Draco announced, coming to a stop. "And some of us have a bed to get to."

"I'm not tired," Scorpius said at once with all the five-year-old petulantly and stubbornest that went with the statement, although the way he kept rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet said otherwise.

"Yes, well, I am, and if you want a bedtime story, we need to get home before I fall asleep. And I believe there's some creatures that need feeding."

Scorpius perked up and didn't protest again as they made their way back to the manor. When they had reached the backdoor, Draco washed Scorpius' feet off with a stream of water from his wand that earned him a fit of giggles and squeals, then dried them with a charm and nudged the boy through the door before he could make them filthy all over again. He bent down and grabbed Scorpius' shoes before he followed. He deposited the shoes into the little cubby marked 'shoes' and tapped his wand against the door to set the wards in place (old habits died hard). He followed Scorpius upstairs. Once the boy's pajamas were on and his teeth brushed (more habits that didn't seem to want to die), they made their feeding rounds around Scorpius' room, feeding the vast variety of underwater creatures he had somehow managed to talk Draco into getting over the years. After dropping the food inside, Scorpius stopped at every tank to wish each and every animal goodnight.

"Goodnight Dragon. Goodnight Neptune. Goodnight Jade," Scorpius began when they reached the seahorses.

Draco squinted at them as Scorpius confidently named and said goodnight to all twenty-four of them, searching for any kind of identifying differences. There was the obvious thing, color, but considering there were multiple identical versions of the same color, he was left at a lost. But he knew better than to question Scorpius. Whether the boy could really tell all his animals apart remained a mystery, but his confidence was infallible. In fact, he considered it an insult when Draco dared to question him.

Pets safely fed and wished goodnight, Draco finally tucked the little ocean loving menace into his bed.

"Lights," Scorpius mumbled as he snuggled beneath his octopus blanket. He reached for his squid body pillow, which was more than twice the size of him, and hugged it to his chest, tucking the pointed head beneath his pointed chin. When Blaise had presented Scorpius with it on his fourth birthday, Draco had been prepared to hex his bollocks off for the nightmares he was sure the disturbing pillow would bring, but Scorpius had taken to it immediately. Now, he didn't sleep without it.

Draco clapped his hands and the lights went out, leaving only the luminescent glow of Scorpius' fish tanks and the soft blue enchanted jellyfish lights that floated lazily near the ceiling. He turned on the jellyfish lamp that stood upon Scorpius' bookshelf and pulled the nearest sit-table thing to him, which happened to be an octopus bean bag chair. He sunk into it with an uncomfortable _oomph_ that reminded him he definitely wasn't a teenager anymore — not that he would ever have sat in something so _weird_ when he was a teenager; his poor, fragile pride never would have allowed such a thing, but now, as Scorpius giggled at him, Draco stuck out his tongue like the mature adult he was.

"What book do you want me to read tonight?"

"The shark one."

Draco rolled his eyes. " _Which_ shark one?"

Scorpius went silent for a moment, expression so severe you would've thought he had been asked to make a life or death decision, before he said finally, "Sharks: The World's Most Misunderstood Creature."

Draco bit down a snicker and located the book in question. This time, he couldn't stop his snort when he saw which book it was. _Such a weird kid_ , he thought. Scorpius had a multitude of cutesy — still weird, in Draco's opinion, mind — children books featuring all manners of ocean life — the kind of books Draco would be stocking the pediatrics ward of his hospital with — and yet, Scorpius had only ever asked Draco to read them one or twice at most. Instead, he preferred the non-fiction books chock full of facts and big words even Draco had to sometimes struggle with. Draco opened the book that was most certainly not a story-time book and began reading.

"Contrary to popular belief, sharks are not vicious man-eaters. Out of over 400 species of sharks, only 20 are considered dangerous to humans. Statistically speaking, humans are a far greater threat to sharks than sharks are to us..."

Scorpius sighed contentedly and burrowed deeper under his octopus blanket, squid clutched to his chest and eyes falling closed.

* * *

 **End notes:** Quick disclaimer, I know absolutely nothing about the ocean or marine life whatsoever. Every and any fact I include I found on a quick Google search. I also don't know anything about French, so please bare with any future attempts at using it. Google is a fickle being.

Please let me know what you guys think! I'm very excited about writing this fic and any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated.


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